


Good Old Days

by burkiebeans



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Memories, about flower, sidney is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burkiebeans/pseuds/burkiebeans
Summary: The Penguins hadn’t played the Golden Knights yet and it’s been far too long since he looked to his side and saw Marc there.





	Good Old Days

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this tweet, https://twitter.com/penguins/status/941133853799809024

Sidney wasn’t ready, despite what he told his team. The Penguins hadn’t played the Golden Knights yet and it’s been far too long since he looked to his side and saw Marc there. 

 

The transition wasn’t easy. There was a gap in the locker room and no one could fill it. His stall was empty because Sidney almost had a breakdown when the guys started to put new goalie gear in it. Kris had to talk him down, muttering french in between words while Geno watched with a worried glance.

 

The plane ride was long and boring and Sidney spent half of it asleep and the other half watching videos of them playing. It wasn’t like he needed to, he’d already watched them all, twice. He knew their style. He definitely knew their saving grace, a dark haired Quebecois native who looked good in grey, but even better in yellow. 

 

Kris eventually tapped him on the shoulder and yanked out his ear buds, motioning to the almost empty plane. They had landed and he didn’t even notice.

 

The rink was empty when they got there. It was weird and new and no one knew their way around it. Sidney wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to, or how Marc seemed to settle in so nicely.

 

Even if he saw it coming, it was still a big “fuck you” to him, and Geno, and Kris, and all the other veterans who’d built up relationships with Flower. Matt didn’t take it well either, and no one could use the ‘goalies are weird’ excuse for that one. 

 

Someone set a camera in front of him and more people had recorders. From his peripheral he could see some guys getting dressed and talking quietly. Kris gave him a small thumbs up and flipped a water bottle to him; his mouth was getting dry. 

 

They ran through the normal questions, Sidney giving the normal cliches.

 

“We just gotta… get pucks deep y’know.”

 

“Get the offense clicking again.”

 

“Of course, y’know, the defense has gotta talk and figure it all out.”

 

And then they asked him about what it would be like to be playing Marc again. The damn reporters even said “Fleury”, not Flower or Marc or  _ your old teammate _ . Sid drew a blank and Geno could see him suffering from a mile away, but he gave a small smile.

 

“It’s uh,”

 

Sid looked down, then back up. Memories started to cloud his vision and unfold in his eyes.

 

It was 2013 and Sidney was huddled in a waiting room, bearing the smallest Penguins blanket he’d ever seen. It had been only a few hours since Marc got the call and rushed from practice to the hospital, Sidney following as soon as practice ended. Then Marc came out with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face and practically pushed Sidney into the room. She was asleep on her mom's chest, swaddled in a blanket with a pink hat on her head.

 

“She’s…” Sidney looked at Marc who was just staring adorably at the sight. “Congratulations you two.”

 

It was 2009 and Sidney watched Marc make a save, with seconds left on the clock. Then they were shooting champagne in a locker room 300 miles away from their city. They were drinking from  _ the cup _ and celebrating and Sidney didn’t think it could get much better than that.

 

Boy, was he wrong.

 

It was 2016 and they didn’t even need a game 7 to get it.

 

Then it was 2017 and they were _back to back_ _champions_. 

 

And it was 2005 and Sidney had been waiting his whole life for this moment. It was destined for him. 

 

The locker room silenced when he came in, but it wasn’t awkward. It was fascination. He’d met Mario already and only a handful of other guys. He hadn’t met Marc yet, until a tall figure walked up to him and introduced himself.

  
“Flower,” he said in the thickest accent Sidney had ever heard, “But, I already know who you are.”

  
They clicked pretty well. 

 

The reporter coughed and Sidney wasn’t sure what to do, so he let out a breathy chuckle.

 

“I’ve taken about 12 years worth of shots on him, so I think he knows me pretty well. But… I like to think I know a thing or two.” He gave a smile and the reporters laughed while the interview winded down.

 

Going on the ice for warm ups was surreal. He could see Marc from across the ice, taking shots like he normally does. Phil nudged him, his silent way of telling him to get his head in the game. 

 

Flower didn’t come off the ice quite as quick as Sidney thought he would. They made eye contact, gave smiles, and then Marc mouthed out something in french that could very well be a curse or insult, but chances were that Sidney had already heard it. 

 

They skated past each other after the anthem, Marc pushing into him making him laugh.

 

“You sure you’re ready, Sid?”

 

He shook his head. Marc patted his back.

 

“Ah, so you do miss me.”

 

Sidney chuckled, “Of course not, asshole.”  

 

Marc just rolled his eyes.

 

“We still on for dinner?” 

 

“I guess, we’ll see how this game goes.” Sid said, giving Marc a wink when he started to skate off. It wasn’t gonna be Primanti Bros, but he’d take Flower up on his offer. He hadn’t been to Vegas yet. 


End file.
